One of the sites brought us to the forest of Ponar, a small town less than ten minutes from downtown Vilnius by train. During the Soviet occupation of Lithuania from 1940 to 1941, large pits for oil storage were dug here.

Before these pits could be used for their intended purpose, Germany invaded Lithuania and forced the Soviet Army to retreat. Upon discovering this remote area that could be directly accessed by train from both Vilnius and Kaunas, the Nazis decided that this location would best fit their plans for Jewish extermination. Over the course of three years approximately one hundred thousand people were murdered and buried in the pits of Ponar, including seventy thousand Jews.

Towards the end of the war, when the Soviet Army was closing in on the Germans, Jews were ordered to cover up these horrific crimes in order to hide any evidence of mass murder. Eighty Jews and several Soviet prisoners of war were brought to Ponar to form a group called the ‘Burning Brigade,’ whose job was to exhume and burn the corpses buried there. This group was well aware that once their job was completed, they would become the next victims of Ponar, so they devised an escape plan. In the early morning hours when the Germans were fast asleep, the Jews dug an escape tunnel using spoons and other objects, as well as their hands. Their one hundred and twelve foot tunnel was completed in seventy six days, at which point forty or so prisoners made their daring getaway. Twelve of these prisoners escaped that evening and also survived the war, yet nobody had mapped their tunnel’s route until now.

Though it had been collapsed for nearly three quarters of a century, Dr. Freund and his team were able to locate the full length of this escape tunnel within a short period of time. Gravity was no match for their ground penetrating radar, which quickly identified disturbances in the soil that lead directly from the mouth of the burial pit to an area over one hundred feet away. There I stood, witnessing the discovery that scientifically proved the story of the ‘Burning Brigade.’ This example of the ingenuity, courage and resistance of the Jews during the Holocaust was now validated. A piece of Lithuania’s Holocaust puzzle had been completed, turning mystery into history.

Another piece of the puzzle was locating the remains of the Great Synagogue of Vilnius, the most significant synagogue in Lithuania’s Jewish history. It had been built in 1633 and functioned up until the Nazi occupation, when the synagogue was burned and left in ruins. Soviet authorities razed what remained of the existing structure, and built a kindergarten on top of the synagogue’s two underground floors.

As Dr. Freund and his team began their search to map the synagogue’s remains, my family and I looked on from the sidelines as the scientists decided where best to set up their equipment. Soon after, we were called upon for assistance. Our task as observers this day was to make room for the scientists by moving the playground equipment to the edge of the property. My Mother Henrietta and Grandmother Ada spoke with the Lithuanian children, kindly explaining the historical significance of their playground’s location and politely asking if we could move their jungle gym to the side. Soon after, the GPR was laid out and drones were flying above, taking photographs and videos of the entire property. Just as Dr. Freund found the tunnel in Ponar, he and his crew had promptly found and mapped the Great Synagogue of Vilnius. That evening, the entire scientific team and our family celebrated the success of their findings at an authentic Lithuanian restaurant.

The most impactful part of this trip for our family was the search for Jacob Gens’s burial site. My Great-Grandfather Jacob Gens was the Jewish leader of the Vilna Ghetto, a position he held for two years from 1941 until 1943. His job was to organize the ghetto of twenty thousand Jews in a small section of the city, with little resources and even less food rations. Gens also acted as liaison between the remaining Jews in Vilna and the Germans, who periodically demanded that he and his police hand over Jews to be killed. Gens did everything in his power to save as many Jews as he possibly could, from secret late night meetings with Gestapo leaders, to complex bribery schemes that involved Jews, Lithuanians, and Nazis. Deception was his only lifeline, both the city and ghetto were rife with spies and informants; sensitive information in the wrong hands could mean liquidation for the entire ghetto.

The Gens family was in a peculiar position throughout the Holocaust. Jacob’s side of the family was Jewish, yet his wife Elvyra’s side of the family was Roman Catholic, making their daughter Ada a half Jew. While Jacob lived inside of the Vilna Ghetto with members of his family, Ada and Elvyra lived nearby in the gentile section of Vilnius, only a couple of blocks from the ghetto’s entrance. They lived under Elvyra’s maiden name and passed as Lithuanians, though they could have been found out at any time and arrested by the Germans. This frightening possibility did not prevent Ada or Elvyra from remaining close with Jacob. In fact, Ada spent most of her time inside of the ghetto with Jacob and their Jewish friends and family, while Elvyra visited less frequently but could also be seen at many of the functions. When asked to help the ghetto, Ada and Elvyra never shied away from Jacob’s requests, risking their lives to help preserve what remained of Lithuania’s Jewry. Unbelievably, as long as Jacob was alive to protect them, Ada and Elvyra were never turned into the Gestapo.

On the evening of September 14^th, 1943 Ada and Elvyra were visited by one of Jacob’s assistants, he told them to leave their apartment and disappear without arising suspicion. Earlier that day, Gens reported to the Gestapo headquarters for a scheduled meeting. Jacob was warned by several people that the Gestapo planned on executing him, and that he should escape from the ghetto and save himself. Jacob believed that running away would mean liquidation for the ghetto, and opted for the only solution that afforded a chance of survival for Vilna’s remaining Jews. Before heading to the Gestapo headquarters, Gens visited his close friend Dr. Weinreb, where he explained his situation and asked the Doctor for one last request: “Please tell my wife and daughter that I love them.” Jacob Gens proceeded to his meeting with the Gestapo, where he was murdered and buried in an unmarked grave. His Wife Elvyra and Daughter Ada escaped Vilnius soon after, went into hiding and eventually survived the war.

for any disturbances in the soil beneath our feet. After waiting for what felt like an eternity, the underground mapping was complete.

There was both good news and bad news. The good news was that they detected several objects buried underneath the soil, the bad news was that we’d have to wait for specific permits to dig, which meant returning at a later date. As unscientific as it may sound, if given the opportunity, I would have dug up the entire courtyard with a shovel myself. Life goes on.

The PBS film crew spent several days interviewing my Grandmother Ada in historic locations throughout the city. I held her hand as we strolled the cobblestone streets that she walked as a teenager in the Vilna Ghetto. These were the streets that caused painful, black sores to develop on Ada’s feet as she so frequently ran errands for her family. The same streets that her father walked on his way to meet with the Gestapo on that fateful September evening in 1943, fully aware that he was going to his death, yet his greatest concern was the safety of his wife and daughter. Three generations of our family were now retracing the footsteps of our ancestors, thanks to the strength and determination that my Grandmother Ada showed as a teenager seventy three years earlier.

By the end of our trip to Lithuania I had experienced more than I could possibly comprehend. Though the archaeologists had not yet located the remains of Jacob Gens, there was little to be disappointed about. My family had now seen a different side of my Grandmother. This Holocaust surviving widow had given us an intimate look into her life during the Shoah, which is the last time she had been together with her loving family, at the great expense of her own vulnerability. Looking back today, this was the trip of a lifetime. Few people were fortunate to survive, and even less could stand the pain of returning to their quiet, empty homes and cities that preserved such sacred memories.

The only constant thought I have had since leaving Lithuania in 2016, is one that I am sure my family shares with me: Take me back to Vilna.

Written by: Alexander Phibbs, Founder of Gens Family Project